Only Thing Holding Him Back
by Blue.Rose.Marcella
Summary: The only thing keeping Darry from being a Soc is the gang. This is my take on The Outsiders from Darry's perspective.
1. Chapter One

/b Hey guys. Well, I'm a huge fan of uThe Outsiders/u and I thought I would write a fanfiction. It's not much for my first, but, I'm a strong believer that Darry is very underestimated. So I decided to sort of re-write the novel from his perspective. Don't knock it till you've tried it. It's really a great way to exercise your writing skills and try to get into the author's mind and what they might have been trying to say but never said out loud. And I named it "Only Thing Holding Him Back" because Two-Bit and Ponyboy discuss how the only thing keeping Darry from being a Soc is the gang. So please enjoy! R/R.   
/b I don't own any characters. They belong to S.E. Hinton.  
/b I own merely a couple choice, brief, scenes. You'll see them for yourself.   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
"How was work, Little Buddy?" I asked Soda as he approached me with a smile, along with his best friend Steve Randle.   
"Fine enough. You?"   
"Can't say it was that good," I laughed. My little brother and I got along quite well. Better than most brothers. Then again, I was not only a brother figure, but a father figure as well. I had to be what with everything that happened to our parents. I won't get into details because I don't much like talking about it. But death is a horrible thing and can change you for the worst.   
"Reason 'nuff why I don't have a job," Two-Bit said happily, shoving his hands in his pockets. I rolled my eyes.   
"Your mom still pays for you for everything," Steve protested, punching Two-Bit in the shoulder as we walked.   
"His mom's tuff," Dally commented. He was easily the one out of all of us that looked most threatening. He had a dark gleam to his eyes that led you to believe he'd go off like a firecracker at any moment. And if you weren't careful, he just might.   
"Hey, where's Pony?" asked Soda, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. I shrugged.   
"He said he was going for a walk and he'd meet us here. You mean you haven't seen him either?" Soda shook his head, appearing concerned.   
"So he's alone?" Johnny asked with a frightened look in his eyes. He always looked scared like that. I couldn't blame him. After what he'd been put through...  
"Look," said Two-Bit, pointing ahead of us. There was a red Corvair parked crookedly, and we could just make out the madras of the Socs within a few yards of it.   
"There's trouble," Soda deducted, speeding up worriedly. I was right on his tail, the others behind us. As we neared, we noticed that the four Socs were crowded around something. It was a Soc on his knees, beating up on a greaser. And sure enough, it was Ponyboy.   
"Hey!" yelled Dallas, charging at a Soc. The rest, save myself, started chasing the Socs off. For the most part, it was clean. A few punches thrown and nothing more. I rushed to Ponyboy's side.   
I took hold of him under the arms and pulled him up to his feet, brushing the dirt off his shirt. "Are you all right, Ponyboy?" When he didn't respond immediately, I shook him lightly to get his attention.   
"I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."   
I stopped at the tone of his voice. He didn't sound pleased. "I'm sorry."   
He looked at me strangely, and said nothing. I noticed he was having a bit of a problem keeping himself stable. There was blood trickling down the side of his head, but from the look on his face, he didn't want my nursing. So I stood back and shoved my fists in my pockets.   
"They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"   
He opened his mouth to begin saying something, but thought better of it. Instead he cleared his throat and merely said, "I'm okay."   
Soda came back, out of breath. The Socs had gone, speeding off in their expensive red Corvair. I couldn't suppress my sigh of relief. Ponyboy's condition wasn't as bad as it could have been. I remembered the day we found Johnny. If that ever happened to Pony, I wouldn't be able to ever forgive myself. Not that I'd tell him that. He would never believe me, anyhow.   
Sodapop got down to his knees beside Ponyboy, inspecting the damage that had been done to our little brother.   
"You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?" he asked in concern. Pony seemed to soften. I sighed. Ponyboy didn't trust me the way he trusted Sodapop. I would never understand why.   
"I did?" he asked cluelessly. Sodapop began mopping away the thick red substance from Ponyboy's brow.   
"You're bleedin' like a stuck pig."   
"I am?"   
"Look!" he declared, showing Ponyboy the stained handkerchief as if to prove it to him. "Did they pull a blade on you?"   
Ponyboy paused a minute before responding. "Yeah."   
Soda and I looked on with concern. Ponyboy turned away, beginning to shudder. Soda comforted him immediately, as was expected.   
"Easy, Ponyboy. They ain't gonna hurt you no more."   
"I know," he agreed. He rubbed at his cheeks. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all." He took a couple of deep breaths purposefully. Soda tousled his hair.   
"You're an okay kid, Pony." Ponyboy smiled in response. The way he always did when Soda teased him.  
"You're crazy, Soda, out of your mind."   
"You're both nuts," I countered, feeling slightly agitated that Pony appreciated Soda's concern more than mine. I tried to shake it off. No use it letting it bother me.   
Soda raised a brow at me. Damn Two-Bit teaching him that eyebrow thing. "It seems to run in this family."   
I tried to pierce him with an intimidating glare. However, his expression and overall innocent face couldn't ask for such a look. So I didn't bother to suppress my grin. I didn't mind being teased by Soda so much. It was all in good fun and he was my little brother. I would do anything for him, and vice versa.   
The rest of the guys began running back towards us after chucking rocks at the Soc's car. Not much of a trick, but it would do a sufficient amount of damage altogether.   
Ponyboy rubbed his eyes. "Didya catch 'em?"   
"Nup. They got away this time, the dirty..." Two-Bit proceeded to exercise his vocabulary concerning what he thought about the Socs.   
"The kid's okay?" asked Steve. He didn't appear too concerned. Steve wasn't a bad guy, and he was Sodapop's best friend since grade school. But sometimes I got the impression that Ponyboy wasn't his favorite person in the world. He seemed to look down on him as being inferior.   
"I'm okay," Pony confirmed. He paused uncomfortably for a moment. "I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dally."   
"Good behavior. Got off early." Dally began to light a cancer stick, then passed it over to Johnny. We all sat down to relax for a bit and hopefully ease some tensions. It seemed to work. Ponyboy turned back to his normal skin color and his trembling ceased. I didn't like that he smoked, and he knew it. He was only a kid. He'd be dead before he was thirty if he kept it up. But I didn't say it more than a few times a week. No use in lecturing the kid with stuff he didn't want to hear about.   
"Nice looking bruise you got there, kid," said Two-Bit to Ponyboy in admiration.   
Ponyboy reached a hand to his face in suppressed excitement. "Really?"   
Two-Bit nodded in confirmation. "Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough."   
Steve flicked his ashes in Ponyboy's direction. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome?"   
Good old Steve. I had almost forgotten that fact.   
"I was comin' home from the movies. I didn't think..."   
That kid had a way of making my blood boil like nobody else on this earth. He didn't listen. He never wanted to. And he scared me to death sometimes.   
Not that I would ever tell him that.   
"You don't ever think," I interrupted him, "not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you've always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."   
He avoided eye contact, appearing very interested in his shoe. Pony and I for some reason just didn't connect. He was always going against what I wanted him to do, purposely, if I didn't know better. If he had had a blade, he wouldn't have used it anyway, and I suppose I still would have yelled. He wasn't like Soda. Soda had a good head on his shoulders and knew what to do and when to do it. And at that present moment, he was glaring at me something awful.   
"Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain't his fault he likes to go to the movies, and it ain't his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons."   
Soda always seems to stick up for Ponyboy. Sometimes it sort of made me sick.   
"When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I'll ask you--kid brother." But from then I left him alone. No use in making both of my brothers angry at me.   
"Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy," Two-Bit said. "Any of us will."   
Two-Bit is a good guy. He's always looking out for Ponyboy when Sodapop isn't. Two-Bit may have looked and acted like a common hood, but he had a good heart.   
"Speakin' of movies"--Dally yawned, tossing away his cigarette butt--"I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?"   
Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game." With this, he cast a look of discreet warning in Ponyboy's direction. As if hinting that he didn't want to the kid hanging out with them on their dates.   
Ponyboy wasn't that stupid. Besides, if he did happen to go with them, it was because Sodapop persuaded him to. Steve wasn't always thinking logically that way, though.   
"I'm working tomorrow night," I added, trying to clear the air a bit.   
Dally turned to the remainder of the gang. "How about y'all? Two-Bit? Johnnycake, you and Pony wanta come?"   
"Me and Johnny'll come," Ponyboy agreed. He turned to me. "Okay, Darry?"   
"Yeah, since it ain't a school night," I allowed. I didn't like when Ponyboy stayed out too late on school nights. He needed to stay focused in class. And for that, he needed plenty of rest overnight.   
"I was plannin' on getting boozed up tomorrow night," Two-Bit said. "If I don't, I'll walk over and find y'all."   
Steve gestured to Dally's hand, where his ring was back. "You break up with Sylvia again?" he asked.   
"Yeah, and this time it's for good. That little broad was two-timin' me again while I was in jail."   
I thought it was for the better. Sylvia was the type of broad who went through a few guys a month. Once she got action, she got bored, and moved on. Dallas Winston was not one to put up with crap like that. I didn't blame him much, either.   
"You're gonna have to put a bandaid on that cut when we get back to the house, Ponyboy," I insisted, taking the cigarette butt from his fingers and rubbing it into the ground with my shoe.  
~*~  
"Rub harder, Soda," I mumbled into the floor. "You're gonna put me to sleep." He did as I asked, sympathetic of my long days at work. I knew he worried about me. And I didn't like it much. There was no need for him to worry. I was careful and I knew what I was doing. Though he often threatened to skin me for carrying more than a single bundle of roofing up the ladder at once. I thought it was funny that /i threatened to skin /i. I was the older brother, after all. If anyone was looking out for anyone, it would be me for him.   
Sodapop had it rough. He dropped out of school to help support the three of us. He always said he did it because he was dumb. That wasn't it. Sodapop was a smart kid, and I knew it. Ponyboy knew it. Soda knew it, too, in the back of his mind. But saying he did it because he was stupid was an easier excuse than saying because he needed to help us out. He knew that I would go off on him if he ever admitted it. I would work to the bone to keep the rest of my family together, and he knew it. He didn't need to work the way he did to help me help all of us. He didn't need that kind of a life at all.   
"You worry us real bad sometimes, Darry," Sodapop declared, digging his palm into my lower back.   
"You shouldn't worry, Little Buddy," I muttered. I felt guilty. I knew that he and Ponyboy worried about me. But I would do anything I could to support those boys. Sodapop knew it. I don't think Pony was so bright about it, though. I hoped he was doing his homework right then...Otherwise I'd beat him over the head.   
But soon enough, Soda's backrub toned down once again, and he indeed sent me to sleep. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: I love "Nothing Gold Can Stay" By Robert Frost. I also love The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. Enough said. Thought I'd share. Continue on with the fanfic, if you've stuck with me this far :-)   
~*~  
"I'm leavin' now to meet Dal and Johnny," Ponyboy updated, shoving his fists in his pockets and strutting towards the door. He avoided all eye contact with me, for fear I might have changed my mind, most likely.   
"Take a jacket, Pony," I offered sternly. "Tonight's gonna be awful cold."   
"I ain't a baby," he argued.   
"Fine, have it your way. Be home early. You know the curfew."   
"I know, Darry."   
I opened my newspaper. "Stay out too late and I'll skin you alive, and you know it."   
"I know, Darry," said Ponyboy impatiently. Sodapop laughed lightly.   
"Let him go. No use in giving him the third degree. Let the kid have some fun."   
"All right," I said hesitantly. "Go ahead. Just remember curfew."   
"I know, Darry."   
He was beginning to sound like a broken record. I wondered if he ever really listened to me.   
~*~  
I looked at my watch. It was nearly two in the morning. Ponyboy still wasn't back yet. I had called Two-Bit's house. He said he had broken off from him and Johnny nearly two and a half hours ago. I tried Dally. No answer. Johnny's parents didn't even realize he had gone, and didn't bother to look for him either.   
Johnny had it bad. Worst out of all of us. His family didn't care what happened to him, whether he lived or died or disappeared into thin air. They didn't notice him when he was there, and they didn't notice when he was gone.   
"Where could he be?" I asked, lowering my newspaper. I'd been trying to read it for the past few hours. I was stuck, however, scanning the same article over and over again. I couldn't focus. I was a nervous wreck that Ponyboy hadn't come home yet. "Soda?" I asked. My brother was asleep on the couch. Poor kid...he'd worked a lot today. The kind of work he didn't need at his age.   
I tried to focus on my paper again, only to fail in my efforts. I was worried about Ponyboy.   
Not that I would ever tell him that.   
I heard the door open slowly. I was on my feet immediately. Ponyboy looked sheepish, chewing on his fingernail in fear. Oh, he better be afraid.   
"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" I was mad. Madder than I had been at him in a long long while. He messed up this time, and he was going to know it. He shook his head nervously.   
"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?" I knew my voice was rising. I was torn between the relief that he was safe and sound, and the anger of his foolishness. "Where in the almighty universe were you?"   
He jumped a bit at my tone, and began stuttering. "I...I went to sleep in the lot."   
"You what?" I shouted. Soda had woken up by now, rubbing his eyes. Even I could tell in his voice he was concerned and somewhat disappointed.   
"Hey, Ponyboy," he began somewhat sleepily. "Where ya been?"   
"I didn't mean to," Ponyboy offered pathetically. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."   
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. "I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on."   
His voice began to rise, along with his breathing rate. "I said I didn't mean to..."   
"I didn't mean to!" I shouted impatiently. He jumped in fear. Excuse after excuse..."I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"   
"Darry..." Soda began in efforts to make peace. But he was butting in again. I love Soda dearly, he's my brother, but sometimes Ponyboy and I need to talk about things without Sodapop's opinion thrown in.   
"You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him!"   
Ponyboy exploded at me. "You don't yell at him!" he shouted angrily.   
What happened next was all a blur. I don't know what came over me. It was the boiling of my blood that sent my adrenaline pumping. I wheeled around and hit Ponyboy with so much force that he went careening against the door.   
The look on his face broke my heart. I had never hit him before. I had never hit anyone in my family. Nobody in this family had ever hit each other before, at all. Soda's eyes were popping out of their sockets. My trembling hand was turning red. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. "Ponyboy..."   
He didn't listen. He turned around and threw open the door, running away at lightning speed.   
"Pony!" I called in a panic, pulling open the screen door and yelling into the night. "Pony, I didn't mean to!" In resignation I watched as he continued running at high speed away from the house and back towards the lot. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have hit him. I couldn't believe myself. It had just come out of nowhere. He had worried me so much...  
I started walking out the door until Soda grabbed hold of the back of my shirt. I turned to him questioningly.   
"He needs to cool down. If you tried to understand him at all, you would know that he doesn't like to be followed," said Soda coldly. He turned away from me and began walking back to the sofa, scratching at the back of his head as though in deep concentration.   
I looked back out the door longingly. Ponyboy was no longer in sight. I felt my heart drop into my stomach and my knees gave out by the armchair. I collapsed into a sitting position on the cushion, cradling my head in my hands.   
"I've made a mess of things, now, haven't I?" I muttered mostly to myself. Sodapop turned to me. The look in his eyes was one I didn't recognize from him. One of anger and resentment. He shook his head in disbelief.   
"You sure did, Darry. You know, Pony already thinks you hate him. Now you just gone proved him right. I reckon you'll be damn lucky if he forgives you for it."   
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Soda questioningly. "Hate him?" I choked. I shook my head in defiance. "N-no, I don't hate Ponyboy. There's no way. Y'all are my little brothers and I love you...I look out for you both...You're all I have left."   
"Well, the way you treat him sure don't make him feel loved," Soda protested. I knew that Soda had to be exceedingly upset with me. It wasn't every day that he told me off that way. Only when I'd done something really horrible.   
I knew I had made a mistake. I knew that I had done the stupidest thing I possibly could. That was the only thing that held me back from defending myself to Sodapop. Because I knew that everything he was saying was right. Soda sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing his forehead in frustration. I didn't say a word. Neither of us did for close to an hour. At long last, Soda's anger seemed to have diminished and he softly spoke up.   
"What time is it?" he asked in a whisper. I could sense the fear in his shaking voice as he played nervously with the sleeve of his shirt. I tentatively glanced at my watch and sighed.   
"Almost three in the morning." I looked at Soda carefully. He seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle with himself before clearing his throat and standing.   
"I'm sure he's with Johnny. Or maybe they went to Two-Bit's. His mom's always treating them real nice." He looked as though he was mostly trying to convince himself rather than me.   
"I'm real beat," he declared suddenly, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna go get some rest...Do the same, Dar. He'll be back in the morning, sitting right on the couch with Two-Bit, watching cartoons."   
I nodded hesitantly. Soda was probably right. Pony never stayed mad for long...He'd be back in the morning once he cooled off.   
"Night," Soda said, retreating down the hallway towards his and Pony's bedroom. I nodded.   
"Right. Night."   
~*~  
Rest proved futile that night. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that Sodapop was right about Ponyboy returning, it was no use. I kept trying to envision myself walking into the livingroom to find him seated next to Mathews. He would be somewhat cold towards me, but not badly enough that he wouldn't talk to me at all. He'd probably be pretty quiet, maybe reading a book to distract himself. Nonetheless, he would be back, sitting there, forgiving me for the most part.   
It was a nice scenario. Though unlikely. It was the unhealthy kind of wishful thinking where you try to convince yourself that someone won't be mad at you for doing something really stupid. Then you start believing that you haven't done a thing wrong. Dangerous sorts of psychological debates.   
The bed started to feel hard as rocks when at last the sun peeked over the hill and the beams warmed my room. It had been a cold night, so the reappearance of the sun was comforting. In a way, it made me feel somewhat better.   
I lay in bed for about five more hours, deep in thought, before anything caused me to get up.   
Slam!  
I sat up quickly. The front door. It was Ponyboy. I knew it. Soda was right. He just couldn't stay mad. I had planned out the whole speech in my head of how I would apologize to him, and now was my chance. I threw back the covers and raced into the livingroom, my adrenaline pumping in joy. Pony was back.   
I rounded the corner. The sight I saw wasn't the one I had had in mind. My heart fell into my stomach in the most extreme sort of disappointment. "It's just you," I said sadly.   
"Nice to see you too, buddy," Two-Bit said sarcastically, flopping down onto the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He flipped on the television and made himself at home.   
"You seen Pony?" I asked without hesitation. Without even removing his eyes from the screen, he shook his head.   
"Nope. Probably at the park with Johnny. Hey, got any beer?"   
"You drank the last of it yesterday," I commented distractedly, walking into the kitchen. There was Soda, making breakfast. That meant I had dishes duty.   
"Morning, Little Buddy," I said warmly. He turned to me. To put it lightly, he looked horrible, even through the feigned smile of greeting. There were dark circles under his eyes and his stance told me that he was exhausted beyond belief. It was terribly apparent that he hadn't slept a wink, either, just like me.   
It was strange. Ponyboy had spent a billion nights in the lot or even at Two-Bit's. But this time we knew it was different. I had blown it and he had run off. And for him to not be back yet...That was enough to make both me and Sodapop go nearly crazy.   
"What time is it?" I asked Soda softly. He must have looked a few moments before because without even checking, he answered.   
"Nearly noon."   
Noon. Almost twelve o'clock in the afternoon and Pony wasn't back yet. It had been nearly ten hours.   
"You going into work today?" I asked him. He nodded.   
"Yeah. Me and Steve don't go in for about an hour, though. You?"   
"No. I'm not going," I said defiantly. I wouldn't be able to focus, anyway.   
Slam! There was the front door again. Soda and I looked at one another hopefully.   
"You guys better get in here," I heard Steve call. Both of our faces fell simultaneously as we headed into the livingroom. There was Steve Randle in his oily and greasy work clothes, holding a newspaper in hand. He looked distraught.   
"What is it?" Sodapop asked fearfully. I could tell he was assuming the absolute worst. Then again, I was, too.   
"Look at this," said Steve sullenly, handing us the paper. Soda and I each grabbed a side in horror.   
"That's that Soc that beat Johnny up," observed Sodapop, glancing at the black and white photograph at the top of the article.   
"Keep reading," Steve said softly, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. Two-Bit had even turned off the television and was looking distressed.   
After I finished the article, I fell into a sitting position on the couch. "Oh, Lord..." I breathed. "Wanted for murder?"   
"It had to be self defense," Sodapop cut in. "It simply had to be. Johnny wouldn't hurt a fly on purpose..."   
"Good luck getting the judge to think so," said Steve with a sigh as Two-Bit grabbed the paper to read for himself. "It's Greaser against Soc. Who do you reckon he'll believe?"   
The gang was silent. Sodapop let loose a shaky sigh. I knew he wanted to cry. Sodapop was easily the most open with his emotions of all of us. But then he tried to suppress them. Mostly for our sakes, I think. Or maybe his grief was beyond tears.   
"Where d'ya think they're off to?" asked Steve worriedly. Two-Bit's eyes lit up as though he had an idea.   
"I think I know of someone who'd know."   
"Who?" I asked urgently.   
"Dallas Winston. I'm sure Dally helped them."   
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	3. Chapter Three

**The Only Thing Holding Him Back *~* Chapter Three**

_**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been working on multiple fanfictions. I'd love for you to check them out! This chapter's a bit short and I'm sorry, but I thought it was the proper place to end it. By the way...This issue has not arisen yet but I foresee it coming up--That Darry's narration is too mature for the group. Well, as Ponyboy says in the real The Outsiders novel, Darry is extremely smart and could be a Soc if he wanted to. So with a good education comes good vocabulary. Anywho, here's Chapter Three. Enjoy!_

*~*

The gang headed down to Buck Merril's party, where we suspicioned Dally would still be. Sure enough, it was still going on, even at 12:10 in the afternoon. His parties are usually known to last quite a while.  


"Go ahead and knock," Two-Bit said to Steve. Steve raised an eyebrow.  


"I don't want to knock, _you_ knock."  


"You first."  


"Oh, c'mon, boys, grow up," I insisted, pushing them both aside and rapping my knuckles on the wooden door. Soda peeked in the window to see if anybody was approaching.  


"Here he comes," he observed, just as the door swung open. Buck Merril rubbed his eyes. I could smell the alcohol on him.  


"Can we see Dally?" asked Two-Bit, trying to appear tough. We all assumed his same stance. None of us were too fond of Buck Merril and he was usually looking for trouble. But if the four of us looked intimidating, maybe he'd comply to our request.  


"He's sleeping," said Buck in a slur. "Come back later."  


"It's real important," persisted Sodapop urgently, slipping a hand onto the doorframe to keep Buck from slamming it in our faces. "Come on, let us see him."  


Buck looked from Sodapop, to myself, to Steve and Two-Bit. At last he groaned in agitation and allowed our entrance.  


"Thank you," said Soda sharply, always one to exercise his manners. We headed into the house.  


"Up there," said Buck, pointing lazily behind him towards the stairs. The four of us followed his finger in the direction he had pointed.  


"I think it's here," guessed Steve, gesturing to the only room that didn't have giggling echoing from inside. I nodded and led the way.  


"Dall?" I asked, entering without even knocking. Dallas Winston laid on face-down on the bed, snoring softly. Two-Bit approached him and cleared his throat.  


"Dally," he said loudly, kicking him lightly in the side. "Dally, wake up."  


"What is it?" he muttered in annoyance, lifting his face slightly and rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.  


"This," I declared, shoving the paper in his face. He recoiled a bit and snatched it from my hands to examine it. His eyebrows rose in an almost-convincing manner.  


"Man," he murmured, rubbing his forehead. "Johnny and Ponyboy?"  


"Don't play stupid," Soda pleaded. "Dallas, we're real worried 'bout them. Tell us where they are."  


"I--I don't know," he said with a shrug. Two-Bit rolled his eyes.  


"Man, I hope you have a better act planned for the fuzz."  


"What you saying?" Dally demanded.  


"You know they's gonna come ask you about it first," Steve agreed, turning a chair around backwards and taking a seat. "They's always suspecting you're involved."  


"Well," Dally began modestly, unable to suppress a proud smirk. "Most of times, _does_ involve me. Reckon this is sort of like the time that--"  


"Dall," I began sternly. He stopped his sentence as caught glance of the rough gaze I was aiming at him. And then he exhaled, opening his mouth to begin a new sentence.  


"Dallas Winston," Soda began with newfound bravado. The lot of us turned towards my little brother, focusing on the soaked sweatshirt he was holding in his hands. I recognized that shirt anywhere. It had once been mine, in fact, until I had grown out of it. Sodapop had a new look of determination on his face, mixed with disbelief and anger that Dally would lie to us. I took it from his hold to examine it for myself to make sure.  


"This is _Ponyboy's_," I concluded at last.  


"You're right," Two-Bit observed. "It _is_."  


Dally's expression did not even falter. "Yeah? I found it in the park last night, it was mighty cold and--"  


"We ain't puttin' up with no stalling today, Dally," Soda began desperately, rolling the newspaper in his hands to give himself something to do. Man, what I wouldn't give to wipe that horrified look off his face. Heck, what I wouldn't give to have Pony and Johnny home safe and sound, out of harm's way.  


Dally looked as though he may opt for telling us the truth, then thought better of it. If there's one good quality Dally possesses, it's loyalty. He would protect a friend until his death if he had to.  


"I ain't sayin' nothin'," he decided.  


"Damnit, Dallas!" Soda cried, thrusting the newspaper onto the floor in anger. I had never seen Sodapop so mad before in my whole life. Though I think besides anger it was mostly fear. The feeling was mighty familiar to *me*. I'd been dealing with it since Mom and Dad died. The feeling that you're responsible for another life. A life that you treasure more than your own. Some call it a priority. Some call it a job. I call it _love_.  


Not that I would ever _admit_ to that.  


All of a sudden, Buck burst into the room, slamming the door behind him. He looked rather flushed and I could still smell the alcohol on his breath as he spoke.  


"Dall, the fuzz is here," he declared at last. "They's wanting you to go down to the station for questioning. I tried an' stop 'em, but they ain't goin' no place until they talk to you."   


"Let 'em take me," Dally said with a dismissing wave of his hand, reaching for his shirt. In a way it was sad, the way Dally was used to police taking him in for interrogations. We all knew he expected it. After all, he was right: most of the time, he _was_ involved in whatever was going down in the county.  


"We're coming with you," Steve announced, rising from his sitting position. It was odd, really, the way Steve was suddenly concerned for Ponyboy's wellfare. Though to those who knew him best, Steve Randall was always that way. He cared, but most of times just didn't show it.  


Dally looked annoyed as he pulled the white t-shirt on over his head. "Don't be dense," he scoffed. "I don't need no backup."  


"We want to hear what you tell them," Two-Bit agreed, catching on to Steve's comment.  


Dally lowered his brow at us, as though we were dumber than we knew. "I plan on telling them what I know: nothin'."  


"Stop _lying_!" Soda pleaded. "You don't even have your leather jacket. You gave it to them."  


"Fine, I'll tell you what I know," Dally began resignedly as he paused at the open door, Buck Merril leading the way to the cops in waiting. He looked around as though to be sure nobody else was listening. Then he turned back to us and said in undertones, "They's headin' for Texas." And with that, Dallas Winston left, closing the door behind him. I turned over the moment in my mind. Something didn't add up. It just didn't make sense. The look on Dally's face indicated something other than honesty. The other guys, however, seemed relieved to have a bit of information, and too ecstatic to take a minute to think through its validity.  


"Texas," Two-Bit muttered in concentration. "I have a cousin in Texas. I can ring him and check if he's heard anythin'."  


I looked at Soda, who looked close to tears. I put a comforting hand on his back and began to lead him out of the room. "C'mon. Let's get home."  


_**TO BE CONTINUED... **_


	4. Chapter Four

**The Only Thing Holding Him Back *~* Chapter Four**

_**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been working on multiple fanfictions. I'd love for you to check them out! This chapter's a bit short and I'm sorry, but I thought it was the proper place to end it. By the way...This issue has not arisen yet but I foresee it coming up--That Darry's narration is too mature for the group. Well, as Ponyboy says in the real The Outsiders novel, Darry is extremely smart and could be a Soc if he wanted to. So with a good education comes good vocabulary. Anywho, here's Chapter Four. Enjoy!  


**NEW NOTE:** Hey. I wanted to thank __KillSlay_ for keeping me posted on some of the stuff I missed. I apologize profusely. I've been a bit wrapped up in some personal problems lately so I've been kind of spacey and I'm so sorry for skipping over those few pages of the book entirely while I was writing this chapter. I guess I just don't know the book as well as you do :-) But here you go, it's fixed, I hope! 

*~*

I led Sodapop home that afternoon, enduring the same pain that he was. As I put a hand on his shoulder to help guide him up the steps of our porch, I felt him shaking viciously beneath my touch. He was worried to death for Ponyboy and Johnny. He was just as afraid as _I_ was of something horrible happening. Something that we would not be able to _help_ Pony through, like we always had. He was growing up and didn't need us anymore; this was true. But what if something happened where it was too late for either of us to apologize? To say good-bye?  


"C'mon, Soda," I said softly, helping him into his and Ponyboy's bedroom. Soda, shuddering, climbed into bed, seemingly anxious to recover from his lack of sleep the previous night. He was out cold within seconds. I retreated to the kitchen to whip up some lunch for Soda, myself, and the expectedly unexpected guests that would show up within a few moments.  


Something still struck me as suspicious, however, as I began to toast some bread. I started turning over Dally's last statement in my mind after checking on Sodapop one last time and discovering that he was still peacefully slumbering. Dallas Winston knew _every_ high-quality hideout in the tri-county area. There was no way he would allow the boys to flee for Texas when there were ensured sanctuaries right around town. It was as though he was trying to throw us off the scent of their true location.  


How sad is that, trying to throw us off the scent of our _own flesh and blood_?  


Although...With what I did to Ponyboy last night...I suppose Dally had plenty of reason to assume that Ponyboy would not trust _me_. I hung my head in shame, grateful that there were no witnessing eyes to my sorrow. I was the leader. The leader was not supposed to shed a tear. He was supposed to stay strong and hold the foundation of the gang together. But there were certain things that even _I_ could not keep a grasp on. My little brother was in extreme danger. Wanted for murder. He was on the run. He could get killed. Or worse...  


The door in the living room was hurled open. I hurriedly wiped my eyes and continued the grilled sandwiches as though I had been working feverishly on them all along. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Two-Bit rushing in, holding a little black phonebook and looking anxious.  


"I rang my cous," he explained, breathing heavily as though he had ran the entire way here. He threw his phonebook down onto the table. "He said he didn't hear nothing. I vote we snatch the next train that way and start the search ourselves. We could find 'em faster'n anyone else could."  


"Two-Bit," I sighed, handing him a plate with a sandwich. He looked at it, at first, as though food were a foreign concept to him. Then, however, he shrugged and accepted it, grateful for the nourishment he had been neglecting. "We can't go to Texas hunting. We have jobs here to keep up."  


Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow from behind his sandwich, sputtering through a mouthful, "Ain't family more important than all that, to you, Darry?"  


"Of course it is," I conceded reasonably, setting aside a couple sandwiches for Soda and two more in case Steve came bursting in. "But I don't reckon I believe a word Dally's sayin'."  


Two-Bit raised the other eyebrow this time for a bit of variety as he completed his meal and reached out to take another one. "What makes you say that, Dar?"  


"You know that Dallas knows a million places to hide out from the fuzz around here," I explained. "He wouldn't send them to Texas."  


Two-Bit took this into consideration as he uncovered a Root Beer from the fridge, looking pensive. He located the bottle-opener from the drawer and with a small sucking sound, popped the cap off the bottle and raised it to his lips. Once he had taken a fair sip, he lowered it, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and turned to stare at me once more.  


"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon you're right...Dall ain't stupid. We shoulda _knowed_ better than to think he'd rat the boys out." Angrily, he slammed his bottle down on the table so hard that Root Beer sloshed out the top. I didn't bother to reprimand his messiness. I knew he was upset that Dallas would lead us onto false information. It got to me, as well.  


There was another knock on the door. Two-Bit and I took a glance at each other. Nobody who ever took the time to visit ever knocked. Thinking the same idea, we both headed into the living room and I took a hold of the handle, revealing our mystery guest. Outside stood three members of the fuzz. Two-Bit and I exchanged fearful glances, but assumed our tough positions, gazing out the screen door.  


"Can I help you, officer?" I asked neutrally, keeping my face stone set.  


The lead policeman nodded politely, removing his hat and clutching it to his chest. "Yes, Mr. Curtis, I believe you can. We'd just like to ask a few questions about..." He glanced at his notebook and raised a brow. "Uh, I believe there was a spelling error--"  


"No, his name _is_ Ponyboy," I corrected. The cop looked confused, but nevertheless nodded.  


"All right. Yes, we'd like to ask a few questions regarding--your brother," he decided.  


I could feel Two-Bit looking at me. He didn't want to answer any questions the _fuzz_ had to offer. I could feel that his gaze was pleading with me to send them away. But I couldn't. This was only their job. We had to do what we could. _Anything_ to find Ponyboy before something serious happened to him.  


"Yes, sir," I offered, stepping back to allow his entrance into the house. Two-Bit began walking backwards, still looking scandalized that the fuzz was within a few feet of him, about to ask him questions about the location of his convicted friends. I motioned to him to take a seat, and was about to sit down myself when the lead cop began to talk once more.  


"Are you boys the Curtis brothers?" he inquired, gesturing to myself and Two-Bit. Two-Bit shook his head vigorously, causing the cop to turn to me in curiosity.  


"I'm the oldest. Darrel," I explained. I took the cop's hand as he offered it, but released his grip almost immediately. "My other little brother is sleeping. I'm afraid he's had a hard day."  


The cop nodded in sympathy but itched his chin in thought. "I'm sorry, Darrel; we need _both_ brothers present. He may return to his sleep once we've talked to you both."  


"He's had a hard day," I repeated through gritted teeth. "I don't like to disturb him when he's having a bad day. He needs rest."  


The police officer looked regretful, but shook his head. "Standard procedure, I'm afraid, my boy."  


I had to hand it to them. They weren't the typical fuzz we normally dealt with. The norm for our encounters were usually following the stereotypes of Socs and Greasers, and tended to side with the upper class. So I nodded slowly, making the decision to comply, and exited the room. Two-Bit looked furious that I was about to leave him with the fuzz, vulnerable to questioning and other such interrogations.  


I entered Soda's and Pony's room, knocking gently on the door. To my surprise, Soda turned over abruptly, as though he had only awoken moments before my arrival. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and I lowered my gaze, reminded of when he was only a little kid. Sometimes those days were better. Sometimes...  


"Dar?" he asked through a yawn. "What's going on? Who's are those voices?"  


"The fuzz is here," I explained. Soda's eyes widened slightly. "To ask some questions about Pony. And I made you some lunch," I added, trying to show that it was a light-hearted visit and that he had nothing to be afraid of.  


Soda nodded and yawned once more, peeling back his covers and standing, proceeding to stretch and follow me out the door. I ducked into the kitchen to grab his sandwiches and a few Root Beers, returning to the living room.  


"Would you like a drink, officers?" I asked politely, deciding that manners were the best ally we could obtain in this situation. Two politely refused, but one of the quiet ones decided to accept. I set Soda's own in front of him along with his sandwiches, which he looked anxious to ingest.  


"We're here to ask a few questions about your brother," the lead cop explained professionally. "We've just spoken with Dallas Winston, who would not tell us a thing." Two-Bit delivered me a knowing look from behind the policemen, which I opted to ignore for the moment. "But we'd like to ask you some questions ourselves."  


I took a deep breath; ready to take anything they threw at us.  


~*~

  


A couple days passed. Dally was released from containment once he had "slipped" that the boys were heading for Texas.  


Soda had been carefully perfecting his draft of the letter he planned on sending Dally off with to deliver to Ponyboy the next time he saw the boys. Though Dally still insisted that he had no idea where they were, Soda was determined as I was. We were sure, by now, that Texas was a fluke. They were somewhere nearby, and Dally was planning a visit. It was only too obvious. Whenever we discussed the morning in question, he would dismiss it and say he had to visit his dying grandmother. Both Dally's grandmothers were already six feet under, so we knew immediately that something was up.  


"Take this to Ponyboy," Soda pleaded hopefully, handing the letter carefully to Dally as though it would fall to pieces if it weren't handled so gingerly.  


Dally shook his head, pushing the letter gently away. "Soda, I told y'all, I'unno where they are."  


Soda lowered his eyes, pursed his lips, and shoved the letter back towards him. "I _know_ you know, Dally. Stop arguing and take it."  


"Soda--"  


"_Take it_."  


Dally nodded, somewhat uncomfortably, taking the letter just as gently as Soda, himself, had been handling it, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "I'm tellin' you, Soda, I'unno where they are. But if I see 'em, I'll be sure an' give him your note."  


Soda nodded, deciding that this was as an acceptable answer as he would receive, and from then on, backed off Dally and once more locked himself in his room, refusing meals and neglecting rest.  


A couple more days passed, still, full of random visits from Steve, Two-Bit, and occasionally a constantly on-guard Dallas. He seemed afraid that we would weasel the proper information out of him. He knew we had the power.  


The Socs were beginning to trail us anywhere we went, making it so that we had to travel in groups. Two-Bit even got jumped one day. Luckily Dally and I were not far behind and managed to catch up just in time, though he seemed to be doing fine all on his own. It was beginning to get messy and for the first time in ages, we considered locking our doors at night. Bob's friends were out for blood and since they could not locate Ponyboy and Johnny, they thought they could settle for our blood. Especially mine or Soda's, seeing as we were Pony's brothers. It was becoming ridiculous.  


Even Bob's girlfriend, Cherry Valance, appeared at our hangout one day as we were checking to make sure none of Two-Bit's bones were broken after he was jumped by Bob's friends. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears dribbling down her cheeks. Tim Shepherd and some of his lot made attempts to scare her off, even whipped out weapons for defense in case some of her's and Bob's buddies showed up then and there. But she was alone. And she was scared to death. So Two-Bit called everyone off and insisted we let her talk. Through her cries, she managed to choke out that she wanted to be on our side.  


"Why?" Steve had asked suspiciously, taking a drag on his cigarrette.  


"Bob was a good guy, when he wasn't drunk. I suppose he was asking for it, though...Ponyboy and Johnny were so kind to me that night at the movies when Dally" -- at this comment, she shot a look at Dallas Winston, who was not fazed by her glare -- "was being so crude...I just want to help. I feel like it's my fault, being nice to Pony...I don't want to make matters worse, I'd like to try to make them better, if I can...I'll even testify against Bob in court, if I have to. He was drunk and Ponyboy and Johnny were only defending themselves..."  


"I don't think we can trust her," Steve had commented once the conversation had finished and she left. His eyes were narrowed and his guard up as he kept his gaze moving for signs of Socs around the group. "She was Bob's broad, she's a Soc. We don't trust no Soc."  


Two-Bit had jumped to her defense. "She ain't bad, Steve. She was mighty nice to us at the movies, too, even with Soc eyes all 'round. Give her a chance, will ya? We might get some valuable info."  


And with that, it was settled. Cherry Valance would deliver us the proper information we needed to avoid Socs at all costs and when we had to confront them, what to expect. After she refused Dally's offer to buy her a drink with a very polite way of saying something very vulgar and retreated, there was a far-off look in Dally's eyes that was, to me, indiscernable. Almost as if he...No. Not Dallas Winston.  


Then, the aforementioned morning arose, and Dally took off for his "grandmother," leaving us sitting alone at the house. Steve was pretending to be absorbed in a television program, while Two-Bit and I just sat on the couch, deep in thought and twisting our pop bottles in our hands for something to keep occupied. Soda was still in his room. He hadn't attended work in two days, and Steve said they were considering firing him. That worried me. Soda had dropped out of school to maintain a job to contribute to the family. It would all be in vain if he ended up being fired.  


"Guess if Dally's lyin', this'll be the day, huh?" Two-Bit said softly, keeping his eyes trained on the soda in his hands.  


I nodded vaguely, my mind traveling distantly, hardly hearing Two-Bit's sentence. "Yeah. I suppose we will." I looked out the window hopefully, taking a deep breath and releasing it once more. "Hold on, Pony."  


**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

_**A/N:** Review with your comments, questions, or concerns! _


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